


your touch is lethal

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Reality, Sex, kind of OT5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 16:05:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wakes up with the ability to seduce whoever he touches. It doesn't work on everybody. </p><p>  <i>He chews down on his lip. “So, if that touch thing had worked on me, we’d probably be having sex right now.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	your touch is lethal

**Author's Note:**

> Okay this idea I kind of got spur of the moment. I hope it's alright because I'm trying to get better at writing sexual content. This oneshot is endgame Larry, just so you're aware. And like always, I don't own 1D or know them in real life.  
> ENJOY :)

For the last few days, Harry hasn’t been a very happy person. From a scale of one to ten on the happy scale, Harry’s about a 2, or at least a 1.5. And yes, there is such a thing as a happy scale, and no, he has tried to make things better for himself, but this whole situation is like a cycle. He’ll smile to his heart’s content; convince the boys that life is great and beautiful. And heck, they actually _believe him._ Or they don’t, but they’re trying to make it seem like they do. Either way, he needs to find a solution to his problem – stat.

It’s not like this problem of his isn’t easy to solve. There is ways of fixing everything. But then. It’s kind of embarrassing to admit. Harry’s got a problem. A _SEXUAL_ problem. And fuck, it sounds awful like that. Like something a child around twelve would say to their friends. _“Hey mate, guess what I have? A sexual problem. Awesome, right_?” No. Not indeed. He can’t possibly admit this to the boys, if he does, he’ll never hear the end of it. He’s supposed to be the one that ‘gets it’. Except, he’s the one that ‘doesn’t get it at all because actually… ha-ha… he’s downright awkward.’ Funny how things are in reality.

So he wants sex. In different positions. Maybe pressed up against the wall, or on his deluxe bed, or maybe arched over the ever so pristine table. He doesn’t know who he wants it with. When he imagines these scenarios (and let me tell you this, he imagines it _a lot_ ) the face that he sees is blank. Still it’s a craving, one that he can’t deny.

It’s stupid too because logically, he should be able to have sex whenever the hell he wants it. He could go out to a club and BANG a girl or a guy could be pulling him by the hand away from the crowded scene. Except, he doesn’t want that. He’s not sure why, but the idea of that just makes him want to retch. Which is stupid, it doesn’t make sense.

His mind is geared so much towards fucking, and that’s probably the reason why this has happened in the first place. There’s only one explanation, and anything else is bordering on insane. He can’t believe anything else.

Harry woke up this morning with the typical boner, y’know. That was to be expected, it was what happened afterwards that was a little weird.

Now, his hands are itching by his sides, even after he jerked himself off only seconds beforehand. He makes his way out into the hallway of their hotel, thinking of popping down to the breakfast bar before seeing the other boys later. Of course, that doesn’t exactly happen. He makes his way over to the elevator, humming underneath his breath a tune that he can’t really remember the lyrics to. The elevator entrance opens and out comes Niall with a bagel stuck precariously in his mouth and a few more bagels in his hands.

“Hey,” Niall greets but it sounds more like ‘ _hemmmm’_ or something of the like.

Harry just nods at him, and looks back at the lovely bagels.

Niall’s still dressed in his pyjamas, it seems. He’s wearing a shirt that exposes his collarbone, as well as shorts that do nothing but make the little Harry twitch with interest.

And great. It’s gotten to the point where he’s looking at one of his friends like that.

“You want one?” Niall says, pointing at the bagels in his hands as he chews down the rest of the one in his mouth.

Harry snaps out of it immediately, and nods fervently, feeling like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

Niall reaches out with the breakfast bagel in hand to Harry, and Harry should just snatch it out and be on his merry way back to his room. But that’s not how it goes. In fact, the outcome is a lot different than he would have imagined. As Harry goes to take the bagel, his fingers slightly touch Niall’s. There’s a weird electric shot that jolts through his hand and the bagel drops to the floor in front of their feet. Harry groans with exasperation.

“Oh god, I wanted that bagel,” he complains and pouts.

He looks up, hoping that his pout will make Niall give him another one, but the pout leaves his lips once he sees Niall’s hooded eyes.

It’s weird because Niall’s wearing an expression that Harry should never see, ever.

He looks like he wants to eat him. Harry wonders whether he’s still dreaming and is actually in bed all along.

“God, you’re gorgeous, Harry,” Niall licks his lips and takes a step forward.

Harry stands still. Like a statue. “Thanks?” he says, slightly confused as to what is going on.

“I really want to kiss you. You look so kissable. Can I kiss you?” Niall is talking in riddles, it has to be. In fact, it’s making Harry feel uneasy.

Somehow the steps they have taken backwards have led them to stand outside of Liam and Zayn’s door. Harry deliberates knocking and running in there.

And then it clicks. “I know why you’re being like this! Is this a trick? Did Lou put you up to this? Because I swear I –“

Except, he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

Niall rushes forward so fast, hands grabbing onto Harry’s arms as his lips meet his own. Harry’s taken aback at first, but then his dick twitches again for the second time that morning and it’s a reminder that he’s horny and that someone is kissing him right now. And rather well, too. Niall is licking his mouth like he’s searching for buried treasure. He’s exploring it, his fingernails digging into Harry’s arms.

Harry lets out a moan and somehow or other his own tongue is working for him. He’s kissing Niall with such fury and he can’t compute exactly what is happening. Warning signs are going off in his head like beacons of light ‘ _he’s a friend, don’t go there’_ but he pushes them away with every chance he gets. It’s only when Niall’s hands travel elsewhere, making him snap back to reality.

He pushes with as much effort as he possibly can, and it’s difficult. One, because the whole of him wants this so badly it hurts. And two, because Niall’s adamant to keep on kissing him until his lips go numb. Even so, he does it. He doesn’t feel like he’s succeeded with anything.

“Come on, Harry. Why did you push me away?” Niall bites his lip, a look on his face that can only be described as predatory.

Harry laughs awkwardly, but it’s not like that can help his situation at all. His heart is still pounding from what has just happened.

His hands are shaking.

“I have to go…food is calling,” he enunciates his words slowly, unsure of what he’s really saying.

Niall seems to want to say something, but Harry doesn’t give him a chance too. He’s escaped without a second thought.

***

Harry wants to run somewhere and work this all out.

It’s hard to use his brain though when he feels like his heart might burst. What has just happened mere moments before has made him utterly confused, he can’t work it out. But he has two theories.

  1. Niall is being a dick. He’s teamed up with the others in order to make Harry into a mess. Somehow he’s found out that Harry is already, in fact, a horny mess.
  2. Niall is in love with him.



It can’t possibly be the last one because the last time Harry checked, Niall was a hundred percent straight. He’s always going on about banging girls; boys have never come into the equation. Maybe his predilection has changed, but then again, it still doesn’t make sense. The only other possible reason is that this is all a prank. That one is easier to believe.

Harry tries to forget what has just happened as he goes up to the breakfast bar and orders some toast and orange juice. He finishes this all up quickly, doing so only to make sure his mind is fixed on one thing instead of drifting. As he makes his way back up stairs again, his hands are clasped into fists. He half expects Niall to pop up out of nowhere and order to kiss him again. It’s putting him on edge.

The doors click open as he steps onto their floor, he peers his head around the door, to check if the hallway is empty. Thankfully, it is. Harry sighs, holding his hand to his chest and letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He shakes his head, and considers going back to bed and sleeping off this weirdness until their next interview.

Although, when he turns the corner to his cosy room, his four best friends are standing outside of it. He stops immediately, going stiff as he sees Niall. He’s sure this is not going to go well.

“Oh, hi Harry!” Niall exclaims strolling up to him in a way that just seems too calm.

Harry decides he doesn’t want to be attacked again. He screeches louder than he thinks possible and hides behind Louis, except, he doesn’t touch him. He doesn’t feel like touching anyone right now (which is _weird.)_

“Don’t come any closer!” he warns, and he’s sure that at any second he’ll start hissing.

Louis peers behind him and raises an eyebrow. Harry chooses to ignore him.

“What.” Is all Niall says in response.

Niall is staring at him incredulously. His lip is slightly puffy, a reminder of what had occurred only a few minutes ago.

“You violated me!” Harry points at him in an accusing way. Niall looks at him as if he’s got a few screws loose. In fact, they’re all staring at him like that.

Zayn’s frowning like he’s an expert at doing so. Liam looks as confused as Niall. And Louis looks like he’s about to burst out laughing. Harry wants to run away from all of them.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Louis asks, voicing what everyone else is truly thinking.

Harry opens his mouth to speak, “I – he, he tried to…” He doesn’t get to finish it.

It’s apparent that Niall has forgotten what has happened. This is convenient, for him. Harry can tell by his expression, and that’s what stops him from digging a deeper hole for himself.

His face seems to have gone beetroot red. He’s aware of it because his face feels like it’s on fire. He steps away from behind Louis, glancing at the carpet floor.

“Never mind. Sorry. When does our interview start?”

They still won’t stop looking at him. It’s unnerving.

***

Harry’s tapping his hands on the table like he’s drumming to his own beat. But, he’s really actually doing so to calm himself down.

They’re currently in an interview for _Much Music_ and although everyone else is joining in the conversation happily, Harry’s sitting there like he’s sitting on hot coals. He squirms every few seconds and avoids anyone’s eyes. He’s sat between Niall and Liam, and they’re both looking at him out of their peripheral vision. He doesn’t want to be by Niall and it’s stupid for him to act like this, but Niall hadn’t owned up to what happened. In fact, he’s acting as if nothing happened. And Harry’s sure that he hadn’t dreamt up the scenario. Definitely. His dreams aren’t usually that good.

But goddamn it. He wishes to forget everything. Each time he remembers the way Niall’s lips had felt pressed up against his own, a weird feeling would awake inside of him. And then it would travel down to a dreaded place. So. He’s got a boner. No big deal, right?

It’s his tight black jeans that make it a big deal. He’s sure if anyone were to glance down at the area of crotch they’d be able to notice it. It was stupid for him to decide to wear skinny jeans in the first place. That’s what they’re going to write on his grave: died of stupidity.

He’s willing for it to go down. But it won’t. It just won’t and it’s driving him insane. He’s waiting patiently for the interview to end so that he can go and have a much needed wank. The seconds are going far too slowly.

“Harry?”

Harry’s head pops up immediately in reaction to the whisper in his ear. He turns his head to look at Liam, who is looking at him in concern.

He wants Liam to leave him alone. It would help if he did. Everyone else is ignoring him. And that’s fine. In fact, he wants that. He wants everyone to play the ignoring game. It’s better that way.

Except, Liam’s not like that. He can’t leave him alone.

“Are you alright?” he whispers, leaning into him.

Harry doesn’t need this. That question is just silly. He decides instead to push Liam away from him, both of his hands resting on Liam’s chest as he shoves. Liam at first looks hurt by this, but then his eyes soften. It’s a fast and odd change, as if the first expression hadn’t even happened at all. Harry wants Liam to look away from him, but instead Liam’s eyes drift to Harry’s crotch. Liam’s head snaps back up and _he knows._

Liam tries again to get close to him. He cups a hand around his mouth as he inclines himself towards Harry, and presses his lips to the side of Harry’s ear.

“Do you want me to jerk you off?” he asks.

Harry splutters on his words. “What? No.”

“But I think you need help,” Liam points to his crotch, his hand hovering.

 _This is ridiculous,_ Harry thinks, _He has to be joking with me._

But he’s not. Harry knows he’s not. Liam’s not the kind of person to stay things like that, so he’s certain that Liam means it. Even so, he’s not being jerked off by anyone in this interview, best friend or not.

“I’m fine, Liam. Stop being weird,” Harry assures him. This doesn’t work at all.

Liam completely disregards his wishes. The hand hovering over his crotch settles and then he starts palming him through his skinny fucking jeans. As soon as he does so, Harry lets out a silent moan. He looks around to see if anyone has noticed. The interview hasn’t been paused because of indecency, thank god.

He tries to grab onto Liam’s arm to push him away. “Stop it,” he demands but this doesn’t help with anything.

Liam’s hand is resting on the top of Harry’s jeans before he delves underneath them, his fingers coming into contact with Harry’s skin. It’s a mere second before his hand is actually _on_ his dick, and Harry is afraid he might come just from that.

Harry doesn’t know quite what to do but Liam is obstinate in continuing this whether he likes it or not. He can’t understand why no one has noticed yet, but even so, he’s thankful that they haven’t. He’s fucking relieved.

Liam is starting to palm him again, his fingers running over Harry’s whole length. Harry bites back a moan, his teeth sinking hard into his lips.

“Do you want me to stop now, Harry?” Liam asks and his words sound so fucking dirty, even though they could be ten times worse, and Harry gives up on holding the moan in.

It’s tiny but audible. He decides to not look in any direction at this point.

“No,” he shakes his head, “God no.”

Liam’s thumb circles the tip of Harry, already leaking with pre-come. Harry wants to die.

Liam’s moving his hand dreadfully slow, making it last and this is driving Harry mad. He’s breathing heavily, he’s aware of that, but he’s trying his best to keep quiet, even though he wants to moan as loud as he can. Instead of this, his hips seem to have a mind of their own. He’s bucking upwards wanting more when he knows deep down that he really shouldn’t. Liam’s pace is faster this time, a smirk appearing on his dreaded lips.

“Yeah, you like that don’t you?” Liam murmurs.

Harry can’t believe what’s happening, doesn’t know why it’s happening. But all of this is forgotten as the bliss sets in, as he starts to come.

And it’s awkward and odd as Liam’s hand slips out of his jeans, also covered in Harry’s come.

Harry blinks several times over but his breath is still shaky, and his body feels like putty. He peers over at Liam, but he’s no longer facing him, instead he’s looking back at the interviewer. But Harry’s sure he can see the smug on his face.

But no one else noticed. He’s sure of it (at least he hopes to God he is).

***

“I have a super ability,” Harry asserts as he looks out of the window at the New York skyline. “That’s what it is.”

All of the boys are in his room, crowded around the television. Harry’s trying to piece everything that has happened over the last how many hours together. It’s kind of difficult.

Like Niall, Liam’s acting as if nothing has happened at all. Although, Harry’s not entirely sure that he’s actually acting. It seems like he has genuinely no idea what he had done to Harry at their interview. And Harry’s not okay with that at all. He feels like he’s being played with, a feeling that he doesn’t want to deal with.

“Stop talking to yourself and sit down,” Niall says from across the room, and Harry jumps at the sound of his voice.

He’s not just wary of Liam, he’s still cautious of Niall too.

But he does what he says, turning himself back around to face the other boys. They are not paying attention to him; their eyes are all glued at the face on the television screen.

Harry doesn’t want to sit with them. He doesn’t know what is happening but any time he happens to touch someone, he ends up in an odd situation. He rakes a hand through his curly hair and shakes his head.

“I think I’m going to go to the gym,” he announces.

They all look up at him then in unison.

“Oh, I’ll come with you,” Zayn says from where he’s perched on the edge of the room’s black sofa.

Harry shakes his head fast. “No, you really don’t have to.” _Please leave me alone._

Zayn frowns at him. “I was going to go tonight anyway to check out the gym before we leave. I might as well come with you.”

Harry knows that he won’t be able to dissuade Zayn anymore than he already has. It would be stupid to keep on arguing, it would make him look suspicious. Plus, Zayn hasn’t done anything. Just because Liam and Niall decided to violate him, doesn’t mean that everyone is going to follow suit.

He shrugs, and Zayn’s grin with triumph, making his way over to the door. The others wave at them noncommittally as they go back to watching whatever film is on the screen.

The walk to the gym is painfully quiet. Harry suspects that possibly Zayn knows what happened in the interview, because it’s weird how no one had said anything at all. But Zayn doesn’t say a word. He stays by his side instead, hands dug deep into his pockets.

The gym of the hotel is on the second floor. It’s a magnificent space, and at this time of night (10PM, approx) there’s no one about. It’s peaceful that way and Harry finds that he prefers it.

Both Harry and Zayn are dressed in clothes appropriate for the gym anyway, so they make their way over to the machines, Harry going for the treadmill.

He realises not soon after that this atmosphere is what’s best for him. In fact, it’s brilliant that he brought Zayn with him, as he can now be in piece with his own mind without worrying about things every second.

Harry steps off the treadmill at one stage to get some water and doesn’t notice Zayn approaching behind him. He bumps into him, nearly tripping himself up, and steadies himself by grabbing onto the nearest thing. This happens to be Zayn’s arm.

Harry freezes immediately. _Shit.Shit.Shit._

He doesn’t want to believe that his friends’ odd behaviour has been because of a strange ability. The idea of it is preposterous.

He clears his throat. “Sorry, didn’t mean to bump into you there,” he apologises and looks up at Zayn with a smile on his face. And then it falters.

“No, it was my fault,” he smirks at him, “I should really do something for you to make up for it.”

Zayn’s hot, yes. In fact, all of the boys are. But Harry’s never wanted to get into any of these situations. No matter how desperate he has been for the last few weeks. He doesn’t want a repeat of the last two incidents.

“It’s fine, Zayn. Really,” he assures and finally remembers that he’s still holding onto Zayn’s arm. He lets go immediately.

Zayn shakes his head and suddenly he’s standing so close, Harry can practically feel the heat emanating off of him. Zayn’s hands are suddenly on Harry’s waist. Harry’s not sure how they got there.

“No, I insist,” Zayn’s hands are suddenly at Harry’s trousers, attempting to undo the button.

Harry’s still once again, his body not wanting to cooperate with him. And it’s all too swift; his jeans are already falling to his ankles.

 _What’s wrong with everyone today?_ He thinks and he tries to shove Zayn off, but he’s getting to the point where he doesn’t want to. If everyone wants to have a piece of him, why should he stop them? It hasn’t made their friendship that awkward. And it’s not like he can actually make Zayn stop.

Still, his ears are ringing and his mind is screaming _no-no-no._

Zayn is pulling at his boxers before Harry can stop him and then he’s standing there in the gym with one of his best friends half naked. And Zayn is looking at him like he wants to devour him.

Zayn sinks down to his knees. Harry’s aware that he’s very hard. Again.

He feels Zayn’s cold hands on the inside of his thighs and he’s already whimpering. He wants to be touched by Zayn; the idea of it is controlling his mind. Zayn peers up at him and licks his lips slowly, and Harry’s sure this has to be a nightmare, but maybe it is the good kind.

“Can I?” Zayn asks.

“Yes,” Harry responds breathlessly, “ _Yes._ ”

Zayn grins at him and the deal is officially sealed.

His tongue is what touches his dick first; it laps around the tip of his cock, forcing a sensation that makes Harry’s eyes close shut, and his mouth open and slacked. And then it is Zayn’s lips, Zayn’s god awful lips that he hadn’t realised were so undeniably perfect. Zayn sucks with skill that Harry had never felt possible, taking Harry’s entire dick in his mouth. His hands are on both sides of Harry’s hips, fingers pressed down into skin.

He keeps on licking and licking, teasing Harry as his tongue circles around Harry’s dick, across the slit, and back at the tip. Harry’s eyes are wide open now, his hips thrusting to get more, and his hands seem to have a mind of their own as he is grabbing onto Zayn’s soft hair, being careful not to hurt him, but wanting to feel Zayn’s mouth more on him, as if that were possible.

“Feels so good,” and that’s all he can say, so he says it over and over before a moan escapes his lips, louder than he’s ever heard himself before.

He’s so close, he can feel it.

And it’s when he looks down at Zayn, to see his head bobbing, to see his eyes staring right back at him – that’s when he finally comes.

Zayn doesn’t lean back instinctively, instead, he takes it completely, swallowing it as he leans back and grins at his success.

Zayn licks his lips and tilts his head at him. “How was that?” he asks, and he seems so adorably innocent, and Harry just wishes that he could live this moment over and over again.

He grins wide, “Perfect.”

***

Zayn forgets too, but by now Harry was expecting it. The other boy doesn’t say a word about it when they make their way to their rooms. But Harry decides not to act like a nervous idiot around him. He decides to pretend that everything’s fine, and in fact, it should be. So what, his friend sucked him off? Yeah, cool. It’s nothing to worry about.

And he doesn’t worry. He doesn’t worry at all.

He says goodbye to Zayn as he unlocks the door to his room that he shares with Louis. Since this whole fiasco started, Louis is the only one yet who hasn’t acted weird around him. The general rule is this: do not touch anyone else. And he’s sure this time that he is going to stick this rule completely. Louis greets him as he shuts the door behind him. He’s lying across their bed, lying on his stomach as he types on the computer. He closes the lid, and looks up at him.

“Had a nice time at the gym?” he asks him.

Harry’s breath hitches even though he knows that Louis has no clue what happened at all.

“It was fine,” he answers, sure that he sounds normal.

Louis moves to put the laptop away and runs his hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes.

Harry plops down onto his bed, sinking down into it, and takes an exasperated sigh.

“What’s wrong with you?” Louis questions.

Harry shakes his head. “Been a long day.”

Louis nods and stands opposite him. “Oh,” he looks at him properly, “You want me to give you a massage?”

At this Harry leaps as far away from Louis as possible, his arms propelling himself back to the other side of the bed. His reaction might have been a little extreme, but he has to take precautions.

“No!” he exclaims, and stops when he realises he is shouting. “No, I’m fine.”

Louis frowns at him. “What’s gotten into you? It’s just a massage. Have we regressed to kid behaviour, Haz?”

And yeah, it seems like it, doesn’t it?

Louis pays no heed to Harry’s warnings as his hand is reaching out to touch him, maybe shake some sense into him a little. He doesn’t know how all of this works, if he has to touch them or if it’s fine the other way around, but he doesn’t want to find out.

“You can’t touch me!” he shouts loudly and Louis stops in his tracks, hand hovering over Harry’s shoulder.

“What?” he snorts.

“If you touch me you’re going to want to…” Harry stops what he is saying, his face bright red.

“You’re not making any sense, Harry.”

Harry just decides to blurt it out, dash his embarrassment; he’s already in too deep as it is.

“You’ll want to touch me more if you do. Like the others,” he admits, and as he finishes what he’s saying, he’s aware of how stupid it sounds.

Louis laughs hysterically and wipes at his eyes blinking back fake tears. “Wow. Harry. Just wow. Let’s find out if you’re right, then, shall we?”

And then Louis’s hand is clasped into his own and he’s pushing Harry’s hand forward to touch his chest. Harry feels the same electrical current that he had in the three other boys, and he groans inaudibly, knowing what will come next. He looks at Louis standing in front of him.

“You don’t want to fuck me or anything, do you?” And it’s not an invitation, it really isn’t.

Louis looks down at him through hooded eyes. At first Harry thinks that Louis is actually properly thinking about this question in full detail, but then he looks away and shakes his head.

“I don’t feel any different, to be honest.”

 Harry isn’t upset because of this, nor is he disappointed. He’s shocked, is all. He didn’t expect that to happen at all. Maybe he hasn’t got a super ability after all.

Or maybe it just doesn’t work on Louis.

“Oh,” Harry says, dropping his hand down to his sides, “Everyone else went crazy when I touched them.”

“How?”

Harry doesn’t want to say it out loud, but Louis’s raising his eyebrows at him in a way that he knows he can’t ignore. Besides, it’s not like Louis will try and do anything to him.

“Um…well, Niall kissed me. Liam gave me a hand job. And Zayn just sucked me off. Eventful day, yeah?”

And he says this to try and lift the awkwardness in the air, but it just makes it worse.

“So no one’s fucked you yet?” Louis asks and Harry gulps in response.

“No,” Harry answers quickly. He’s about to ask Louis to drop the conversation because it’s making him feel weird, it’s making him feel like he wants to touch Louis himself. And that’s absurd, because Louis doesn’t want to; he’s the only one that his touch doesn’t work on at all.

Louis chews down on his lip. “So, if that touch thing had worked on me, we’d probably be having sex right now.”

There’s a lump in Harry’s throat that won’t go away. There’s a weight on Harry’s heart that is making him want to hide under the covers and cry.

“I-I guess. But still, can we not talk about this?”

“That’s a shame, I could have used that as an excuse,” Louis says wistfully, sitting on the side of the bed, his knees bumping into Harry’s.

This time Harry doesn’t wait for someone else to take matters into their hands. This time he’s the one to initiate it all.

He grabs onto Louis’s shirt, pulling him forward as their lips meet in the middle. It’s different than how Niall kissed him. There had been a spark there, but this time, he feels like his body has been set alight. Louis bites down on Harry’s lip and licks Harry’s mouth, trying to get to as much as he can. Harry is responding with the same amount of fervour, his hands gripping onto Louis’s hair, pulling the older boy closer towards him so that he can get better access to his mouth that way.

Louis pulls away and Harry whimpers in response and he wants more, he wants everything, every part of Louis. Louis grins at him, kissing down his jaw gently, and then sucking hard on the skin at his neck, causing Harry to moan in response. He places another quick kiss to Harry’s mouth before he works on throwing Harry’s shirt over his head as well as his own. Then he’s touching as much as he can, teasing Harry’s nipples between his fingers.

“Louis, God, I –“

Louis hands travel down his stomach, his skin hot against his own. Louis peers up and Harry nods immediately, understanding what Louis is asking of him.

Harry undoes the button of his trousers immediately, his hands shaking from the knowledge of what is about to happen. It seems to matter more about who it’s with. He’s wanted to have sex for weeks, but having it with no one in particular isn’t enough. Louis’s perfect. It has to be Louis.

Louis’s jeans are already lying forgotten on the ground when Harry looks up. He flushes when he sees Louis’s hungry expression, his eyes exploring Harry’s length.

He pulls himself closer, hands on Harry’s own. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, truly. This isn’t because of some super ability, at least not for me. But I don’t want to take advantage of you. Is this okay?”

Harry can’t understand why he’s asking him this question. He’s certain by now that it’s downright obvious that he wants Louis. He doesn’t want to stop, couldn’t.

“No, I _want_ you, Louis. I want you so bad.”

Louis smiles at him, fucking _beams_ like he’s a lighthouse welcoming home a ship. He grabs Harry by the back of the neck and kisses him passionately.

He pulls away, pulling away from him as he reaches over to the cabinet, pulling out some lube. He squeezes it out onto his fingers.

“Spread your legs out for me, Harry,” he requests in a hushed whisper, one that makes Harry do exactly what he says immediately, he doesn’t even have to think about it.

Louis looks in awe as Harry does so, his eyes wide and his mouth slack. “You’re beautiful, so beautiful.”

It’s a second later and Louis is stretching Harry out, one finger becoming two before almost his whole hand is flexing inside of him. Harry is shaking uncontrollably, his hands grabbing on to Louis.

They’re both moaning in unison, a cacophony of dirty sounds. Louis’s unoccupied hand as drifted down to his own dick, and he’s palming it slowly, his gaze fixed on Harry.

Louis pulls his fingers out and Harry pouts at him.

“You want more, huh?”

“Yes,” Harry answers and it’s almost incoherent. “I want you, Lou.”

Louis starts to cover his dick with the lube, coating it.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, Harry,” he promises, and he starts to ease himself in, exacting a breathy groan from Harry.

And then Harry can feel all of him, and it’s spectacular. It’s better than anything he can possibly describe. Louis goes slowly for him at first, easing in and out, his hands steadied on Harry’s waist. But Harry can’t take it like this; he doesn’t want this slow and played out. If it stays like this it will be too much.

“Lou,” he ushers, “Faster. Please.”

Louis nods quickly, and then he does what the younger boy says, thrusting into Harry with perfect rhythm. He finds Harry’s prostrate and again and again he hits it, eliciting a chorus of beautiful moans from Harry’s open mouth.

Louis can’t hold himself back either though, his brow furrowed in concentration and a lustful expression dominating his face.

Harry’s on the edge, he knows it. He breathes in and out. “Louis, I’m going to –“

He’s coming all over his stomach, a feeling of ecstasy spreading through him, a feeling better than anything he’s ever experienced. And so does Louis.

Louis pulls himself out and the two of them lie back onto the bed, side by side.

There’s silence that follows for a while, but it isn’t the painful silence that makes Harry feel anxious. It’s the kind of silence that’s comforting.

When Louis does speak, Harry can practically hear the fond. “That really was amazing.”

“It was,” Harry agrees.

Louis turns his body so that he’s facing Harry. His whole face seems to have lit up, he seems to be glowing.

“I think we should do this again some time.”

“Yeah, me too.”

 _Let's just hope that this touching ability goes away for good._ Harry thinks, his hand intertwining into Louis's own. 


End file.
